Paper Bombs
by calciseptine
Summary: Various. A collection of drabbles.
1. Bomb I

**Story Title**: Paper Bombs**  
Rated**: Various  
**Pairings**: Various  
**Disclaimer**: _Naruto _© Kishimoto Masashi  
**Summary**:A collection of drabbles, all 300 words or less. Various pairings, various ratings.  
**Steve's Notes**: This first page is a compilation of drabbles that I've already posted, so if they look familiar, that's the reason why.  
**Warnings**: You never know what you're going to get.

* * *

**I. The Name Game  
Sai/Naruto, Naruto/Sasuke**

"Sai isn't my real name," the dark-haired boy said honestly one day as they gazed at the clouds.

"I know," Naruto answered, turning his head to look at Sasuke's replacement. (Had he really once thought they looked alike?—because their eyes were both black, but Sai's were placid when Sasuke's burned—)

"But nii-chan called me Sai," he said, and his tongue hurt with the admission.

"Like 'Dickless'?" Naruto laughed at his joke, his blue eyes sparking wickedly. (Sai sits there, with his face unreadable above and underneath, and Sasuke would have been irritated underneath, and would have punched him for interrupting their silence.)

"No." His lips twisted into a half-smile, half-grimace, and because he didn't like to hurt and didn't know why it hurt, asked, "Do you want to know my real name?"

"No, because you're Sai." Naruto laughed again, his laughter as bright as sunshine. (—he would have fought back, and they would be yelling insults and tangled in their limbs, the sky drifting lazily above them.)

"Do you want to guess?" he asked, and his faint smile tortured his face.

"No." Naruto shook his head. (Sasuke would dig his fingers into his hair and pull, bringing their faces close together—and their chests would rise and fall with their sudden anger—) "Does it matter?"

"No," he replied instantly. It didn't—yet—

"Good," Naruto stared back up at the sky, already forgetting their conversation. (Sasuke—Sasuke—)

Sai closed his eyes. He would never understand.

* * *

**II. [AU] Young Love  
Hanabi/Iruka**

Umino Iruka never thought it would have happened to him—never believed it _could_ have happened to him. But of course it did and it was only a matter of time before his colleagues found out and started to snigger behind his back. That irritated him somewhat, especially since it had happened to all of them at least once before; in fact, he was quite certain that Kurenai-sensei received her fair share of love declarations, but he didn't hear anyone giving _her_ any grief.

And in any case, it was just rude to throw away the flowers, even though most of the time they were daisies and dandelions picked up along the way. It wasn't in his nature to recycle hard work either, despite the fact that the 'Will You Marry Me?' card on his desk had been worked on for a grand total of five minutes. He tried reasoning with her, urging her to find someone else to give her heart to, but she was adamant. His words went in one of her pretty little ears and then right out the other.

Iruka admired her stubborn determination of course, but there was only so much patience one could possess; so one day, he did what anyone else in his position would do—he caved. He put her flowers in a vase to sit on his desk and pinned her cards up on one of the spare bulletin boards. Thankfully, his actions assuaged her, and for that the kindergarten teacher was vastly grateful.

Now if only he could get Hanabi to stop declaring her love for him during story time, then _that_ would be something.

* * *

**III. Frozen  
Zabuza/Haku**

The snow was knee-high and Haku was wearing that goddamned dress.

"I told you to wear the coat," grunted the taller man, his eyes staring straight ahead into the white abyss so he would not have to see the Haku's bare, slim arms covered in gooseflesh—then he would have to feel something other than indifference as it writhed inside his chest. "You're no use to me if you freeze to death out here."

The boy smiled lightly because he never smiled any other way, and turned his beautiful face up towards his gruff companion. His skin was pale save for the high rise of blush along his cheekbones and nose; his lips were so blue it looked as though he had once again dabbled with the make-up he sometimes wore.

"Don't worry about me Zabuza-sama," Haku said sweetly, and Zabuza snorted at the delicate cloud that rose with the soft words. "I enjoy the cold."

* * *

**IV. Excuses  
Kakashi/Iruka  
**  
Kakashi removed his mask for one of four reasons: to sleep, to shower, to shave, or to eat. Unfortunately for the silver-haired jounin, neither of these four were the cause to his effect.

With his mask pooled around his neck, Kakashi leaned in towards the mirror to closer inspect the bruise on his left cheekbone, directly below his Sharingan. It was an ugly blue-black, tinged yellow and green around the corners as it attempted to heal itself. Prodding it gently with the tips of his fingers, Kakashi winced as they came into contact with the tender skin. _Not even Gai punches that hard_, he thought with a strange mix of pride and irritation.

Mostly irritation.

"Caught you with my lips, huh?" an amused Pakkun said from the toilet seat, his ugly face crinkled into what equated to a smile. What he was still doing hanging around was beyond Kakashi, seeing as the summoned ninken liked to leave as soon as his usefulness was nil, which, the perturbed jounin noted, had ended the moment they stepped into the mission report room. "That Iruka-sensei sure has a mean right hook."

"Shut up," Kakashi growled.

* * *

**V. Pillow Talk  
Raidou/Genma, Naruto/Sasuke**

The tilt of Genma's _tadaima_ smile was far too smug for the bed-ridden Raidou to ignore.

"What have you done this time?" He sighed in exasperation as Genma flopped onto their futon, careful to avoid Raidou's broken leg. "You haven't exposed yourself in public again, have you?"

"Nope," Genma answered cheerfully. Then, more wickedly—"You know how I was summoned to see the Hokage?"

Raidou raised an eyebrow. "Yes, what did he want you for?"

"Oh, I don't know," Genma grinned outlandishly, his sly eyes positively alight with mirthful glee. The other tokubetsu jounin knew from experience that it was the look Genma adopted when he had a particularly juicy piece of gossip, and contemplated how quickly he could escape their apartment with his cast still on. "He didn't get the chance to tell me much of anything, really."

Genma was baiting him, and Raidou knew that if he didn't play along Genma would be petulant and uncompromising—something that Raidou did not want when Genma promised to play nurse until he got better. "What did he say then?"

"Quote 'Shiranui, get the fuck out of my office now' unquote." Genma leaned forward and touched the scarred side of Genma's face. "So rude, our Shichidaime. He should truly work on his manners."

"Is that why you're bothering me?" Raidou asked as Genma began to follow his fingers with his warm, wet tongue. When he did that, Raidou had a hard time imagining that he probably deserved whatever treatment he had received—even though, deep down, he still knew that Genma usually did. "Because Naruto-sama was rude to you?"

"Yes," the straw-haired moved down to Raidou's throat. "That's it."

Raidou leaned back to expose more of his throat to his lover's greedy mouth—

"That," Genma whispered conspiratorially, "—and to tell you Uchiha Sasuke has a great ass."

—and cracked his head on the wall.

* * *

**VI. Surprise  
Kurenai/Iruka, Kakashi/Iruka**

Iruka liked the way his life was going. Kurenai, however, did not.

"Come on, sensei!" she would yell, taking him by his hand and leading him around to any place her screaming heart desired. She would laugh at his blush and polite words. "Just come with me, sensei!" was her reply to any question he could ask.

And he asked a lot of questions: Where were they going? When would they come back? What were they going to do? Why were they going? How long would it take? Kurenai hated every one—didn't Iruka-sensei have a sense of adventure?

"Sometimes," she would laugh falsely when he asked her one too many times, "—sometimes it's better not to know. If you know everything then life wouldn't hold any more surprises. It would be boring."

Iruka usually let himself be led away at that. "You should tell him where you're planning to go," Asuma said to her one summer day, as they watched the chuunin say goodbye to his students for the day. "See how he answers."

Kurenai glared at Asuma. "Don't look at me like that," he said, and pulled a mashed cigarette from one of his pockets. "You know you should. You're being unfair to him and to yourself."

And surely enough, the next day when Kurenai wanted to take him away to some place she hadn't quite discovered yet, Iruka turned her away with that regretful sort of smile that isn't quite entirely apologetic. "I'm sorry Kurenai-sensei, but I'm already going somewhere," he said politely.

"Where?" she asked.

"I don't know," Iruka replied. His blush crept like seductive fingers up his neck. "Kakashi-sensei said it was a surprise."

Iruka liked the way his life was going. Kurenai, however, did not.

* * *

**VII. [AU] Teacher's Aide  
Mizuki/Everyone**

Iruka knew that it was too good to be true—Touji Mizuki was, after all, witty, kind, and perhaps a little too easy on the eyes. He had needed an assistant for god knows how long; he loved his students, each and every one of them, but sometimes even he needed a break from the tiny hellions. Perhaps that was why he took such a liking to Mizuki so quickly—unconsciously, the silver-haired man had taken on the role of his knight-in-shining-armor.

But the partnership, as blissful as it might have become, was not to last long.

It had all started when Mizuki's Good But Misplaced Intentions lead him to pushing Moegi-chan's sleeping pallet away from in-between Konohamaru's and Udon's—how could have Mizuki known that Moegi _always _slept between the two boys? Then, after permanently pissing the trio off, he made the mistake of hushing Hanabi in the middle of one of her 'I-will-marry-Iruka-sensei-one-day' triads. Then after _that_, the silver-haired man had been perhaps a little _too_ friendly with Tsunami-san, Inari's mother. It was in this unknowing fashion that the aide made himself the enemy of every single child in that room.

Mizuki… didn't last through the second week. Between Hanabi's unnerving, unwavering glares, Inari's sulking and sharp teeth, and Konohamaru's ingenious uses of glitter and super-glue, Iruka could only watch as his students slowly drove his last chance at sanity crazy. Yet even when Mizuki ran screaming from their classroom, Iruka couldn't bring himself to do anything other than laugh along. He loved the little monsters too much to scold them, and a small, traitorous part of him was glad to have things back to normal, even if it meant giving up on his sanity.

Normal, he decided, was overrated anyway.

* * *

to be continued.


	2. Bomb II

**Steve's Notes**: Sorry about only having a few to put up this time around, and for the obvious lack of my main pairings.**  
**

* * *

**I. Craves  
Shikamaru/Asuma**

The cigarette dies slowly.

His fingers tremble as he drags longingly on the nub, the cheap tobacco ash on the grass. The nicotine sweetly poisons his blood and seeps into his brain; the sharp smell brings hazy memories of a rugged jaw, a long smile, the heat of a too close body he aches to bring closer. All these irrational things he wants to scream leave when he exhales smoke, his secret that writhes against the sky, a sound like a sob—the bittersweet sensation leave a the smoke dissolves into the endless blue above—the sick hollowness always follows and he wants more than he ever had.

It is an addiction, and he craves the brief ecstasy that it brings, though it will never be enough. Even so, Shikamaru doesn't resist the temptation to take another cigarette when all that's left of the previous is the filter, as long as it does what it's supposed to, no matter how fleeting it is.

The cigarette dies quickly.

* * *

**II. A Ravenous Hunger  
Shikamaru/Chouji**

Chouji hates nothing more than hospital food—too wet, too dry, too bland hospital food that they bring to him like clockwork, three times a day. "I'm supposed to gain weight," he tells them, waving his skinny arms at them, all elbows and angles. "I'm an Akimichi!"

His protests make them stack his tray, but the food does not stick to his ribs (or his thighs or his gut). He argues with them that their diet is detrimental to his health—he needs to be overweight, needs excess fat so his shinobi techniques eat at that instead of his muscle and bone.

"You fight no battles in the hospital, Akimichi-san," his uncompromising doctor tells him, and Chouji sticks his tongue out at the white lab coat and their refusal to give him at least an unhealthy midnight snack.

"I'm never going to gain my weight back," he laments to Shikamaru, who creeps into his room after visiting hours, pulling a large box of Chouji's favorite take-out from behind his back. Chouji's mouth waters and he pauses in his gluttony only to savor the spicy aftertaste. "I can't wait to get out of this hospital…"

"It is troublesome," Shikamaru concedes, wiping some sauce from Chouji's smooth cheek with his tongue, wet and warm and smelling faintly of cigarettes. His flak jacket is pushed from his shoulders to the floor, followed by his fishnet shirt and black pants. Chouji wraps his thin legs around Shikamaru's waist, his bony ankles digging into the small of Shikamaru's back, and knows that his restlessness stems more from a lack of barbeque and mochi and potato chips; starved, Chouji devours Shikamaru's touches and half-formed whispers.

"What do you want tonight?" Shikamaru asks in the morning, taking a bag of powered doughnuts from his side pouch and handing them over with a kiss. "Anything special?"

Chouji licks the sweet sugar from his lips. "Surprise me," he says.

* * *

**III. Inhibition  
Raidou/Genma**

Raidou does not like Genma. Genma is too loud, too arrogant, and gossips more than a civilian housewife; he sucks on the end of a wooden senbon regularly (Raidou secretly, spitefully wishes it would leave splinters on Genma's wagging tongue) and chews his left thumbnail when he's bored. Yet Genma is worst when he's had more than several cups of chilled saké, because he removes the senbon and his bandana, and Raidou notices the color of his hair and how well it matches his eyes. It happens that Raidou has had more than several cups of chilled saké as well, and when he leans over the table, pulling Genma's black, jounin shirt with seeking fingers and slurs all the things he hates about him, Genma giggles drunkenly and says, "You've been watching me!"

When alcohol is in Raidou's system, it doesn't matter who he loves or he hates, because Genma's eyes match Genma's hair, and kissing Genma is so nice he wonders why he didn't do it in the first place. All the thing that follow are only rational when he has no inhibitions, and Genma's smiles are full of sad promises and sadder secrets. It's only then Raidou whispers what he loves about Genma—how he's too loud, too arrogant, and gossips more than a civilian housewife—that Raidou understands.

But the next day, Genma ties the bandana over his hair and chew on his senbon; he invites Raidou for a drink with a cocky tilt of his mouth, and Raidou does not like it, but he looks into Genma's eyes and wonders why he should say no.

* * *

to be continued.


	3. Bomb III

**Steve's Notes**: A 10 Genre Meme started by questofdreams. I actually plucked up enough creativity to do some of these for several Naruto pairings, though I didn't do the crossovers for any of them… Instead, I substituted that genre with supernatural/fantasy. Also, the challenge was to do each genre in as little words as possible, but I count it as a blessing that I'm actually writing something and heeded that rule not at all.

* * *

**Naruto/Sasuke**

1. **Angst**: There's a moment that hangs between the anger and the adrenaline that feels nearly as empty as the glance Sasuke spares him; later, when Sakura is forcing his bones back into their respective places, they both pretend that his pain is only physical.

2. **AU**: The demon rests in the patch of sunshine that creeps between the tall, thick trees and the fat, steel bars of his cage. Sasuke wants to hate the beast his family has the "honor" of looking after, but when the jinchuuriki turns his blond head to stare at him with eyes the same color as the sky, Sasuke wonders if the sensation that settles in the pit of his stomach isn't the opposite.

3.** Crack**: The girl introduces herself as Uchiha Satsuki to the classroom and it takes Naruto all of three seconds to decide that Satsuki is the love of his life and they are going to be boyfriend and girlfriend. Satsuki doesn't appreciate his machismo and shows the classroom that she punches like a man—which, Naruto realizes as he glances up Satsuki's skirt from his prone position on the floor, may be the case.

4. **Supernatural/Fantasy**: The tepid, funky tasting green tea does not condone the lazy up-down and stupid wink the cashier/waiter gives him, but it may explain why Sasuke, in a moment of insanity, sees a flash of nine fox tails protruding from the blond's backside.

5. **First Time**: When Sasuke, his pale skin covered in dirt and blood and sweat, opens his bitten mouth and _begs_, Naruto loses his previous conviction to make this last. His hands will leave bruises on Sasuke's hips and their bizarre entanglement of limbs will leave his muscles sore for days, but as Sasuke's face contorts into the oddest, most erotic expression Naruto has ever seen him make, the jinchuuriki wonders why they haven't done this before.

6. **Fluff**: The problem isn't that he kisses Naruto at the oddest moments—because he most certainly does not—but that the compulsion to do so when Naruto is being a general dumbass returns no matter how often he tells himself that his lover is neither cute nor endearing. The small, traitorous part of his mind that wants to act on these compulsions tells him that this is what love is; considering all of Naruto's insane behavior, Sasuke is loathe to admit that it might be right.

7. **Humor**: When Sakura gives Sasuke a small, black kitten as a house-warming gift, Naruto truly believes that his teammate has lost her mind. Not a week later, after Naruto and Sasuke have finished making his apartment officially his in their own, special way, Naruto finds the kitten merrily shredding the shirt he discarded in favor of more enjoyable activities. Maybe, he decides, Sakura wasn't crazy after all.

8. **Hurt/Comfort**: Naruto isn't good with words. He has a lot of them, but he throws them around blindly and without any thought as to how they tumble out; unfortunately, that's part of his charm, and as much as Sasuke wants to punch him, he can't, because Naruto has said everything he needs to hear.

9. **Smut**: Naruto undresses slowly, his blue eyes darkened, tinged with red, pinning Sasuke with a unwavering, intense stare that makes it difficult to think. First it's his jacket, the zip sounding obscene in the quiet of Naruto's apartment; next, it's his black shirt that hisses as it slides over the muscles of Naruto's lean torso; then he pops open the button of his slacks with one hand; finally, he eases out of his boxers, dropping them carelessly on the carpeted floor. Naruto smirks and saunters toward Sasuke, who's breathing harder than he should be, and whispers something terrible into his ear. "Make me," Sasuke challenges, and smirks when Naruto eagerly covers his mouth with his own.

10. **UST**: It's his bony elbows and sharp knees that Naruto first notices, because those hurt like none other when Sasuke brings them down onto his back or jabs them upwards into his stomach. Then he notices Sasuke's hands, which are delicate and graceful, but swift and harsh; after that, he notices how his thin feet and long toes dig into the dirt to keep his balance. Sasuke's calves bunch and his thighs quiver as each muscle protests, and Naruto burns the image of how his arms and shoulders come together underneath sweat-slicked, smooth flesh. Naruto thinks that this is when he realizes that he wants to more than just spar with Sasuke—but when his teammate bludgeons the side of his head with his fist, he recognizes that he's just dehydrated again.

* * *

**Jiraiya/Sasuke**

1. **Angst**: The saké isn't the reason he presses his lips to the hollow behind Sasuke's ear, nor is it the saké's fault that they somehow end up naked and fucking and saying stupid things that never should have been said aloud. However, when all the saké is gone, so is he; if it weren't for the splitting headache and the hollowness in his gut, Jiraiya would have believed that he had merely dreamt it all up.

2. **AU**: When Sasuke enters the police force, he isn't expecting one of his superior officers to cope a feel when he passes. When Jiraiya gropes the rookie, he isn't expecting him to have such a mean right hook.

3. **Crack**: The red silk trails off her pale, slender shoulder when she settles her long, delicately formed legs on either side of his lap. She blushes prettily as she pretends to be embarrassed about her compromised modesty, but doesn't push him away as he begins to tongue the length of her throat. His rough fingers wander up the expanse of her trim, trembling thighs and—Jiraiya nearly jumps out of his skin when he realizes he's isn't drunk enough to have made _that_ kind of mistake—but then the man, err, _woman_ moans and he realizes that he's not sober enough to correct it.

4. **Supernatural/Fantasy**: In his research about vampires for his new novel, Jiraiya never expected to encounter an individual who really _was_ a vampire, but as Uchiha Sasuke moves his naked body against his, Jiraiya thinks that vampire wiles are as good excuse as any.

5. **First Time**: Jiraiya has never fallen in love with another _man_, let alone one young enough to be his grandson; but the way Sasuke sighs when Jiraiya finally finds his way around his insecurities ensures that he'll never want anything else. He never does.

6. **Fluff**: Sasuke always wakes before dawn, when the first tendrils of sunrise turn the dark night into a gray and rose dewy morning; he usually slips out from underneath Jiraiya's heavy arm to start his day with a pot of coffee and a quick, hot shower. But that morning, as he tries to extract the older man's arm from around his waist, he makes the mistake of looking over his shoulder at Jiraiya's unconscious, handsome face; with a small resigned sigh and an absent smile, he settles back into the warmth and comfort of Jiraiya's arms.

7. **Humor**: As a porn novelist, Jiraiya feels that he has a duty to be true to his characters and readers, and ensures that all of the scenes he creates can be practiced in actuality rather than just in theory. This is why, he explains to Sasuke, their sex life has been printed over 7 million times (so far) in _Icha Icha Incidents_. Sasuke is not amused and declares that said sex life is on hold for two months; Jiraiya thinks that Sasuke is being unfair and in hindsight concludes he should not have confessed directly basing the lead female role knew he shouldn't have confessed that the rather flexible lead female role off him.

8. **Hurt/Comfort**: He doesn't know how to react to the news of Orochimaru's demise, torn between the relief of shedding his burden of protecting the world from his greatest enemy and the sadness of finally losing someone who was once so precious to him. He doesn't know what to do with the spare time that suddenly looms before him; this is, of course, before he encounters Uchiha Sasuke, who looks at him with the same blank desperation Orochimaru once had, and who unknowingly gives him purpose again.

9. **Smut**: Sasuke is not beautiful in the same sense that the geisha who pour his saké are beautiful; he's all sharp angles and harsh planes and muscular lines, and the paleness of his skin and the darkness of his hair and eyes only add to the severity of his attractiveness. But when he moves above Jiraiya like an experienced whore, wearing nothing but the black leather of his armguards and regarding him hazily with his glassy eyes, Jiraiya thinks that Sasuke is the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.

10. **UST**: The man that walks through the gates of Konoha is not the boy that walked past them so many years ago—his hair is longer and his eyes are deeper. He moves with subtle, powerful grace and doesn't hide the tattoos that creep up his arms from his wrists; he looks at Jiraiya from underneath long, straight lashes and parts his dry lips just so. Jiraiya's brain is so suddenly and violently assaulted by his imagination—naked and straining below him, pulling violently on his hair, keening and cursing and demanding _harder, faster_—that when Sasuke's stare slides off him, he has more than a little problem south of the border.

* * *

**Kisame/Itachi**

1. **Angst**: Itachi does not allow himself much; he does not deserve it. Kisame tells him exactly how he feels about his "martyr bullshit", but it isn't until the last few days that Itachi finally tells Kisame what they both already know—but, as it always has been, Itachi's future is not up to chance, and it's always been too late.

2. **AU**: He passes the dango bar every weekday on the way from his school to Sasuke's, and he always sees the tall, muscular man sitting alone with a rod of sweet dumplings and a ceramic cup of steaming green tea. When he finally decides that he's being foolish and that the imagined conversations he has with the stranger are never going to happen, the older man pulls him off the street with a sharp smile and asks him politely to sit down.

3. **Crack**: Kisame is underwater for an inordinate amount of time, and after seven minutes of his partner not resurfacing, Itachi feels a twinge of panic in the pit of his stomach. He struggles halfway out of his heavy, Akatsuki cloak when Kisame's head pokes out from the underneath surface; after an awkward, tense moment in which Itachi wants to strangle Kisame and Kisame catalogs that moment for future blackmail, does Kisame point to the slender gills on his neck.

4. **Supernatural/Fantasy**: When Itachi falls overboard in the middle of a storm, he fully expects to drown. He is not expecting to exchange breaths of oxygen with an ugly, scaled man with gills and webbed hands and feet; he is also not expecting for the merman to person to kiss him so softly, especially considering the rows of sharp, crooked teeth.

5. **First Time**: Itachi comes out of the hotel bathroom naked and wet and still warm from his long shower; he ignores the stunned expression on Kisame's face when he settles atop the larger man, his skin pink and his dark eyes ferocious and determined. Even if Kisame wants to say no, Itachi won't let him—but he inhales the soft, clean smell of Itachi's hair and knows he never could.

6. **Fluff**: When Itachi finally passes out from the exhaustion of maintaining his Mangekyou for too long, Kisame catches him before he can hit the dusty ground. His frame is light and bonier than Kisame expects it to be, and for an irrational moment he wants to shake his partner back to consciousness and tell him to stop expending so much energy on perpetuating his ridiculous "I'm The Bad Guy" façade because _nobody fucking buys it_—but instead, Kisame places Itachi's head on the firm line of his shoulder and resigns himself to the role of babysitter.

7. ** Humor**: "Let me, Itachi-san," Kisame says gently when the younger man's hand slips for the fourth time; Itachi glares, but hands over the dark nail polish. "I'll do this for you."

8. **Hurt/Comfort**: Kisame wants to scold Itachi for overexerting the Mangekyou again, but instead, he makes some hot green tea and soaks a cloth in warm water. Itachi smiles fondly at him when he gives him these simple things, and it's enough for Kisame to forget his helpless anger and powerlessness.

9. **Smut**: When they fuck—because it's too dangerous to think that they're "making love"—Kisame never worries that he's going to hurt the much smaller man. Itachi gives as good as he's given, scratching long, red lines down Kisame's back, biting the thick meat of Kisame's shoulder, and pulling on Kisame's coarse hair—sometimes, Kisame looks like he's been mauled by an animal—and if Kisame knows that these marks are the only things that Itachi can freely give him, he's more than pleased to sport them.

10. **UST**: Kisame frequently parades around whatever room they've rented for the night shirtless, exposing the thick muscles and scars of his body; in the artificial light, his pale blue skin adopts a warm, yellowish tone that softens Kisame's rough flesh. He normally spends most of his time cleaning his sword, picking through the scales with his blunt, callused fingers and humming to himself as he does so. Itachi wonders what those hands and that body would feel like against his own, but refuses, when Kisame glances at him over his broad shoulder and invites him with his crooked smile, to give in to the desire to find out.

* * *

**Iruka/Kakashi**

1. **Angst**: He wears an extra pair of dog tags around his neck after the destruction of Konoha. No one is insensitive enough to ask who the necklace previously belonged to, but when a jounin makes the mistake of turning in his mission report late and Iruka's face remains carefully blank instead of turning red in irritation, nobody needs to ask anymore.

2. **AU**: Kakashi likes the frustrated, affectionate expression on the other man's face as he tries to control the small herd of children crowding around his knees; his adoptive son, Naruto, clings to the kindergarten teacher's pants and glares at his classmates that try to vie for Iruka's attention. Kakashi should have known that he couldn't compete, but supposes that Iruka's coffee date is worth enduring small children biting him.

3. **Crack**: The large dog that follows him home has shaggy, silver-white hair and bi-colored eyes. It rubs up against his knees and yips happily when he scratches the base of its ears; it walks patiently by his side and is so well-trained that everyone—from his neighbors to his co-workers to the parents of his students—comment on its good behavior. This is why, when Kakashi sheds his Henge the instant they return to his apartment and closes the door, Iruka pulls him up from his knees, whispers, "Good boy," and gives him a special treat.

4. **Supernatural/Fantasy**: Kakashi eyes the dry dog food as though Iruka cannot be serious, which makes Iruka laugh and give his new pet one of the fried shrimp from his tempura udon. Later that night, once Iruka is fast asleep, the curse returns Kakashi to his original form—the one with opposable thumbs and a bit less hair—does the starving man get to raid his new owner's refrigerator and empty his full bowl into the trash bin.

5. **First Time**: They're a jumbled mix of aggression and submission, demand and offer. Iruka fully anticipates Kakashi to end the foreplay by forcing Iruka to his hands and knees, which is why when Kakashi pulls a thin tube of lube out of his flak jacket and places it expectantly in Iruka's slack hand, does Iruka fervently wish that their first time will not be their last.

6. **Fluff**: There is no duty as the Rokudaime that Kakashi hates more than paperwork, which piles up on his desk like a mountain of drudgery and inane requests. Kakashi daydreams of the day he will abolish the tyranny of said paperwork, but until then, the small notes and naughty suggestions that Iruka slips between the sheets are enough to make the work a little less unbearable.

7. ** Humor**: Kakashi gives him Pakkun in the hopes that his pudgy ninken will be able to help Iruka; what Kakashi does not expect is for Pakkun to later inform him that he should be Iruka's bitch.

8. **Hurt/Comfort**: Kakashi comes home some days with little left in him that isn't covered in blood or dirt. He tries to scrub the filth off in the shower, but even when his skin is pink and raw, the sick sensation of dread begins to creep over him as he slips into bed; only when Iruka, bleary with sleep and soft and _just so damn forgiving_, rolls over and enfolds him in his sturdy arms does Kakashi begin to feel any relief.

9. **Smut**: Kakashi can only dig his nails into the wood of his desk and bite his lower lip as Iruka takes him from behind, fingers curled around his hips and breath hot and wet against the back of his neck. The fan that rattles in the corner of the room doesn't cover up the slapping sounds of skin against skin or the heavy pants issuing from Iruka's slack mouth or the keening whines slipping past his lips; when the ANBU guarding his door burst in, convinced that their Hokage is being murdered, Kakashi is quite impressed with the way Iruka tells them to get the fuck out.

10. **UST**: Each time Kakashi graces the mission report room with his presence, Iruka pretends not to notice the way his slim, muscular thighs bunch underneath the sturdy material of his pants or how his callused, faintly scarred fingers rasp against the paper of his report. He tries not to imagine how the sweat would bead against the line between Kakashi's silver hair and his porcelain skin or the way the lines in his throat would stand out with his head thrown back. It takes a lot of willpower not to blush or stutter when he accepts Kakashi's usually torn, dirty, and illegible report; when the jounin finally leaves, the blood rushes back to Iruka's brain and the chuunin reminds himself that he's being entirely foolish to think that he even has a chance.

* * *

**Hashirama/Madara**

1. **Angst**: The final blow is a thick tree branch that fills the space where Madara's lower lung, stomach, and liver should be; blood less crimson than the livid red of his eyes leaks past his lips when he tries to form his final words, but the air that creates speech is gone. The adrenaline beating in Hashirama's brain finally begins to wane as Madara suffocates, and with the righteous anger of a broken heart and a betrayed leader, the Shodaime snaps the chain of the green necklace off Madara's neck and never looks back.

2. **AU**: Madara doesn't like the idea of having to cooperate with the Senju CEO, Hashirama, as their companies undergo the merger; what he likes even less is that Hashirama thinks that the hate sex they've had on more than one occasion entitles him to a little courtesy.

3. **Crack**: "So," Hashirama begins lamely once the battle is over and the hordes of their mutual enemy lies slain in the field below, because _damn_ if the dark stare Madara fixes on him isn't six kinds of sexy. "Come here often?"

4. **Supernatural/Fantasy**: The demon that visits him has blood-colored eyes and hair darker than void, introducing himself as Madara with a silken purr that frizzles electrically along the length of Hashirama's spine. Hashirama knows that he shouldn't be tempted, but when the demon promises to build Konoha into an empire along with a little something else, the First seals his fate with a desperate, choked, "Yes."

5. **First Time**: It's beginning to rain and Hashirama pulls Madara towards him with a carnal purpose that is different from the blows they exchanged earlier, yet somehow no less violent or less demanding. Madara thinks that if Hashirama had treated him with anything less—or given him any other choice—then he wouldn't be returning home with mud all over his hair and clothes and an unfamiliar ache in his ass and in his chest.

6. **Fluff**: Hashirama is surprised when Madara doesn't move to leave once the sweat on their skins have dried; Hashirama pretends to be asleep when Madara shifts closer to him and presses his cold nose against the warmth of his shoulder, pulling the thin, cotton sheets up to their chests. Later, when Hashirama rolls over and wraps one arm around Madara's waist, Madara pretends that he's asleep too.

7. ** Humor**: Tobirama doesn't particularly understand why his older brother listens to the leader of the Uchiha Clan, Madara; there's something about the cold, aloof way he behaves that rankles Tobirama's nerves. This is why, when Tobirama walks in on his brother having sex with another man, he doesn't ever connect the wild, passionate thing underneath his brother with the man who has difficulty making facial expressions.

8. **Hurt/Comfort**: The pain in Madara's eyes is surpassed only by the pain in his gut; when he breaks the mirror with his bare fist, his brother's enraged, madly spinning Mangekyou catches the movement of each, insignificant glass shard and the flinch of the surgeon who implanted them. When Madara focuses his hysteria on anyone but himself, only brave, stupid Hashirama stands unwavering, and offers him understanding, firm shoulder.

9. **Smut**: Hashirama's large, dark hands look wrong against the planes of Madara's flawless skin, and he knows that he thinks this not because he's having sex with a member of the Uchiha clan, but because Madara seems too perfect even when he's cursing and sweating and thrashing underneath Hashirama's attention. Yet when Hashirama finally slides into his enemy's demanding body, the Senju leader admits he might enjoy the perverseness of sullying such a perfection almost as much as the perfection itself.

10. **UST**: The warrior before him has crimson, intelligent eyes more fierce than the war hawks his clan breeds; his coarse black hair frames his narrow face in a halo of darkness that highlights his ivory flesh. He moves with a slinking, swift grace that makes the ninjas' movements surrounding him seem stupid and slow, and when Hashirama uses the plated armor of his forearm to stop the arch of his sword, the Uchiha flashes him a cruel, perfect, and white smile that pumps more than adrenaline into Hashirama's blood. Well, shit.

* * *

to be continued.


	4. Bomb IV

**Steve's Notes**: The majority of these drabbles were written for the **naruto_bang** community on LiveJournal. The first two were just basically stories I pulled out of nowhere; the first, a sort of look into the possible dynamics between Sarutobi and Dnazou, the second a mediation on the two sons of the monk Rikudou, the very first ninja, and how it mirrors Naruto and Sasuke. The rest are pretty straightforward.**  
**

* * *

**prelude to a massacre**  
Danzou/Hiruzen

The ink from Hiruzen's calligraphy brush smears across the long ream of rice paper when it falls from his trembling fingers, obscuring the flowing lines of kanji. Danzou cannot fathom what words might have been before he pushed Hiruzen to his knees and sucked the protest from his tongue—but knowing Hiruzen, it was probably a proverb about patience, or virtue. It hardly matters, now, not as Hiruzen jerks against him and he steadily pull, pull, pulls on Hiruzen until flecks of pure white spatter against a sea of black.

"You'll think about it, then?" Danzou asks when they gather their clothes back into crisp order. Danzou reties his traditional yukata and Hiruzen slips into the mantle of his Hokage robes. When Hiruzen doesn't reply immediately, Danzou leans forward and whispers softly against his ear, "I only think about the safety of this village, my old friend."

"I know, Danzou," Hiruzen replies just as softly, and when he touches the worn, bamboo handles of his calligraphy brush with gnarled fingers, Danzou knows he's won. "I'll think about it."

* * *

**The Beginning **

Twenty five years ago, the first son was the only survivor of a massacre. When the enemies from the North came, his mother hid him beneath the floorboards to protect him from their senseless violence; her blood later dripped through the cracks onto his skin. Rikudou-sama found him among the smoldering ruins of what was once a village, starving and silent beside a funeral pyre that he had built and dragged body after mutilated body to. The monk offered him what little food he had left in his satchel and gave the ashes a proper funeral. The boy, who did not speak save to tell the monk his name—he had been named Uchiha—followed Rikudou after the last soul had been laid to rest.

A year later, Rikudou happened upon an infant that had been abandoned to savage gods at a shrine atop a mountain. He was a newborn with gold hair like the sun and eyes as blue as the sky—he was the perfect sacrifice to the malevolent god of weather who would not give the land rain. Blood was crusted on his cheeks from sacrificial scars tattooing his cheeks and a spiral sun tattoo was emblazoned on his belly. He cried loudly and healthily beneath a dying stick of myrrh incense, and Rikudou had too much heart to leave the infant on the stone to die. He named the second son Senju.

Though a monk and vowed to celibacy, Rikudou treated them both as though they had been born of his own flesh. They were as night and day, Uchiha and Senju, but they were brothers above that. He taught them how to meditate and channel their energy; Uchiha breathed fire and Senju spun air. They grew up with ferocity in their hearts and idealism in their heads, both of which Rikudou knew would serve them both in the years to come, years that he would not see.

He was not an old man, Rikudou, but he had lived long enough to see that the world would unravel if nothing were done. So one day, when his sons were young, strong, independent men, Rikudou packed his satchel for a final time and wandered across the Nine Kingdoms in search of the Juubi no Youma, the ten-tailed beast that brought plague and drought and war to the world. He fought it for one day and one night, until he sealed half of its power inside his left eye and the other half inside nine lesser demons, who scattered across the Nine Kingdoms like dust. Tired, he cut out his left eye and threw it into the sky, where it caught in the heavens and became the moon.

This is how his sons found him, dying and peaceful. "My sons," he cried joyously at the sight of them. "Come close, my sons, I have a final gift for each of you."

To his first son, Uchiha, Rikudou gave the remainder of his sight. "This gift is not given lightly, my son," Rikudou told Uchiha. "With my sight, you can create your own reality—but always remember that there is only one true reality, and that is the one you must strive to protect. With my sight, you must watch the world. Only you can keep the moon in the sky, and only you can take it down."

To his second son, Senju, Rikudou gave the strength of his body. "This gift is not given lightly, my son," Rikudou told Senju. "With my body, you can endure the heaviest burden and carry it without faltering. With my body, you must shoulder the burden of this world's peace. Men will follow you, Senju, and I give you the strength to lead them."

Without his sight and without his body, Rikudou could not live, but he was not afraid of Death. Instead, he feared for the anger he saw in the new eyes of his son, Uchiha, who looked upon Senju in jealousy. Rikudou was not a stupid man; he knew that Uchiha was proud, arrogant, and hungry. Uchiha had a great capacity for love and compassion, but he allowed his baser desires to overshadow these qualities. Uchiha would be jealous of Senju, who was good and kind and always did the right thing. With Rikudou's body, Senju could sooth the pains of the world—yet without Uchiha by his side, even Senju could not obtain true peace.

Rikudou knew this when he bestowed his gifts. He knew there was a possibility that Uchiha would turn against Senju and denounce him, but for the sake of the world, he prayed his sons would find the correct path. Maybe they wouldn't find it in their lifetime, or for many, many centuries, but one day, they would stand together and become brothers once again.

* * *

**A Moment's Hesitation, or Weakness**  
Sasuke/Naruto, for **o0o_faor_o0o**

"I thought you said we couldn't do this anymore," Sasuke smirks as Naruto's fingers dig into the exposed curve of Sasuke's bicep. "You have _responsibilities_—"

"Shut up," Naruto snaps back, and stops Sasuke's mocking words with a kiss that is more teeth than tongue. Sasuke responds in kind, parting his lips and biting at Naruto's mouth; he draws blood and it bursts metallic across their tongues. When they part for breath, sucking in cold winter air, their mouths are stained red and there's a wild need blooming behind Sasuke's Mangekyou eyes. Naruto knows he shouldn't—knows that if he is caught, it would mean that all he has fought tooth and claw for would crumble to ruin.

"What is it, Na-ru-to?" Sasuke asks, baring the white of his canines in the parody of a smile. "Having second thoughts?"

"_Never_," Naruto snarls back, and pushes Sasuke down to the dirty floor.

And it's the truth.

* * *

**Scalded**  
Kakashi/Sasuke, for **o0o_faor_o0o**

He returns with a pot of steaming green tea and pours it gracefully, holding the long sleeve of his dark yukata with a deceptively slim hand. The action exposes the pale of his wrist and the livid blue of the veins pulsing just beneath the veneer of his flesh. He pours the tea into two small, ceramic cups; the steam curls upwards into the air, writhing like snakes.

"It's not poisoned," Sasuke tells Kakashi after he sets the pot down, cradles his own cup with both hands. The thing that pulls at the corners of Sasuke's pale pink lips would have been called a smirk years ago, but it is a mere shadow; and Sasuke is nothing but shadows, these days.

Kakashi picks up his cup with three fingers and tugs down the soft fabric of his mask with his other hand. He would not have exposed the scarred planes of his face, before, but what use is a face to a blind man?

"You were always so cautious," Sasuke says after Kakashi has taken a sip of his tea. "How was it, _sensei?_"

"Bitter," Kakashi replies.

* * *

**High**  
Kakashi/Iruka, for **o0o_faor_o0o**

Kakashi laughs into the strong curve of Iruka's shoulder, an uncontrollable, delighted sound. "I—love—you—" Kakashi manages in between breathless choking. His fingers stumble across Iruka's body and there's a huge, ridiculous smile unlike anything Iruka has ever seen stretched across his scarred mouth, evident in the blown pupils of his mismatched eyes.

"I love you, too," Iruka says, running his knuckles down the sharp line of Kakashi's jaw. "But when you sober up, we're still going to have a talk about your pain medication."

* * *

**The Veneer**  
Sakura/Karin, for **o0o_faor_o0o**

They're painting their nails—Sakura uses a lime green just a shade lighter than her eyes and Karin chooses a deep purple that's nearly black—and talking about their respective progress as medic-nins underneath Tsunade's care. It's a day just like any other, but as their nails are still drying and tacky, Karin shifts forward on Sakura's flower print comforter and presses a soft kiss to Sakura's mouth.

* * *

**The Stain**  
Sasuke/Naruto, for **o0o_faor_o0o**

There's a white, Oxford shirt neatly folded in the back of Sasuke's closet that he hasn't worn for years.

He has not worn it, but it is not because it's too tight in the shoulders or that the sleeves are too short; it's not because it's torn or because he never wears Oxford shirts. The obvious reason Sasuke doesn't wear it is because of the stain. It splashed across the center of his chest, where he spilled hot coffee and burned himself. Even the expensive dry cleaning he sent the shirt to hadn't been able to fully erase the stain—that moment—and a faint outline remains. But the stain is only the obvious reason; another, invisible stain exists in the cotton that is Sasuke's real reason for not wearing it anymore.

The truth is this: seven years ago, a man named Uzumaki Naruto ran into a stranger hurrying on his way to work. The man was carrying a large, dark coffee and the drink splashed all over his chest. Naruto, who was a nurse at the local hospital, took him to said hospital, made sure he was alright, and then asked him to dinner. The man refused, but after a few weeks of Naruto persistent and increasingly creative pestering, the man finally succumbed and went to a silly local restaurant. The man had one of the best nights he had in a long time, and eventually their encounter dissolved into a six year relationship that had ups and downs and a disastrous ending.

And if all the man has left from that relationship is a stained Oxford shirt that he never wears, well, he's the only one who knows that it's still in his closet.

* * *

**Scabbed Over**  
Naruto/Karin, for **ivy_tsuta**

It isn't love—neither are stupid enough to call it that. What they have—the fumble of limbs, the sharpness of pain, the quiet whisper of _it will be okay_—is gauze over the bleeding splinters of their hearts.

"Do you think we could have done anything?" Karin whispers afterwards, into the warmth of Naruto's skin. His hand, which had been threaded through her coral-red hair, slips to the smooth line of her pale, naked shoulder.

"No," Naruto answers, then looks at her, to maybe banish the image of dark eyes, dark hair, and dark blood—but when he blinks, the only promise he has ever broken flickers against the negative space.

* * *

end.


End file.
